Chasing the Night
by DancingThroughStars
Summary: RockStar!AU-All Felicity Smoak, lead singer of Cyber Hack, wanted for the night was to get away from the way everyone else wanted her to be, for a night she wanted to be herself, by herself. Then she meets brooding Oliver Queen at a dive bar. He was her story for the night. He was the next song. Hell, the man was her next album. How much can happen in one night?
1. 12:03 am

**12:03 a.m.**

She was done. Completely and totally done.  
The tabloids wanted to paint her one way, the record label wanted her another way, and her fans wanted their own specific version of her they had crafted in their minds.  
She had nothing to prove. This was a take me as I am moment. Not a come to Jesus, and change yourself moment.

Fuck that shit.

Everyone could go to hell.

And is what she told her management team before she'd made her grand exit, still clad in the black silk, low cut, wrap around tank, black high waist leather shorts with fringe lining the seams running up her hips (because what woman didn't want more attention brought to her hips), and the silver. Each hand was heavily decked out in a multitude of rings, she had on a variety of silver toned bracelets and necklaces of various lengths. Fuck even her well love motorcycle boots had mismatched sliver chains that went around the ankle and then around the underside of the boots.  
The outfit screamed rock and roll.

She also assumed whatever voodoo magic her makeup artist worked on her was still intact. Seeing as at a show last month, they had gotten caught in the rain and her makeup was still all different types of perfect. So with that in mind she knew her lips would still be bright pink and her eyes still overly classic for her current outfit. Though, her hair was curling thanks to the sweat she'd worked up under the hot lights, it was too far gone to be saved.

And in all honesty, she didn't give two fucks about it.  
Just like she hadn't given two fucks when management had a coronary when she showed up for a photo-shoot with her recently colored pink hair.

It was her life.  
This wasn't going to change her.  
They weren't going to change her.  
She needed a night of bad decisions that would lead to better stories and even better songs. She needed to be Felicity Smoak for a night, not F.S. lead singer of Cyber Hack.  
And Felicity Smoak needed a whisky, more than one – she needed all the whisky – and a night of fun.

Which is why she found herself strolling into probably the sketchiest dive bar in all of mankind, because where else should her night of freedom begin?  
Dive bar patrons weren't typically Cyber Hack's core audience. Therefore she'd have freedom and time to breath.

It was a glorious bar. Complete with dim lighting that illuminated just enough, but seemed to cast more shadows then actual light, and there was a section to the back by the billiard's tables which flickered on occasion. Dark floors that had that nice sheen of stick to let you that many a drink had been spilt upon them and never cleaned, and a jukebox which worked, even if the songs had a low static hum in the background. There was a good number of people, it was by no means pack, but lively for a bar of this caliber on a Friday night.

Or was it Saturday morning?  
Fuck it. It didn't matter.

With purposeful strides, ignoring the faint sticking of her boots to the ground, she made her way to the bar, leaning her elbows on the wooden counter as she interlocked her fingers so she could rest her chin idly on them. This still allowed her motion to tip her chin at the bar tender to signal that she was ready to order her Jack Daniels – double and neat, and a flash of her id. There was no reaction at her id, no eye flare of recognition, and Felicity all but let out a sign of relief before slipping her id back into her back pocket.

The amber liquid was poured into a tumbler which had seen better days and placed in front of her without any flourish, while Felicity handed the bar tender her card to start up a tab before taking a swing that emptied nearly half of the contents.  
It was very un-lady-like and she was several hours beyond caring.

"You could have always ordered a shot if that's how you plan to drink."

Well, that was a very distinctively male voice; smooth and rough in its low tenor caused her to whip her head in his direction faster than she would have like. She was a fucking rock star and should be able to play the cool and collected card.

That wasn't her.

So, instead she whipped her head to the man sitting to her right. She'd yet to take a stool herself. There was a slight fear of not knowing exactly what she was sitting on. Plus, standing gave her move freedom of movement, and she felt that need for freedom. The man had his large body curled in, as though he was trying to minimize his size.

He failed at that task, seeing as his muscular arms seemed to be screaming for release from the constraints of the green and blue plaid shirt he was wearing. His eyes were cut to her, even though he kept the rest of him in profile. She was approving of his profile.

Strong jaw, which hadn't seen a razor for a couple of days. The dim light of the bar and his low brows cast his eyes in shadow, his face was all strong defined features and mysterious shadows; and it worked for him.  
It worked for her too.  
In a big way

A large hand went up to the beanie covering is hair, and he gave it a light rub as he pulled in his lips to form a thin line. He felt too wound up, too contained. Everything about the man read as brooding and stoic. Though he couldn't be past his early thirties, at the latest, he had a sense of living well past his time. That he'd see more of the world than many would.  
He was a story to tell and song ready to be written.  
She felt it in her bones.

"If I'm going to do a shot, it's tequila; that's the rule." With her best inviting smile, she turned fully to face him, angling her body toward him in an open manner that could be read as an invitation. There was no other way to take it. She was inviting him into her personal space.  
He didn't seem to notice.

She continued on speaking, because of reasons she wasn't going to delve into at this moment in time, "But you see I want to remember tonight, and tequila has a funny way of erasing my memory, then winding me up hours from my starting point. If I'm going to end up hours away from my starting point wearing a t-rex costume while being the new proud parent of three chickens, I want to remember that. That's a story that's worth being told. Because just saying two years ago I did a shot line of tequila and then ended up in the next state over than where I was supposed to be with the costume and chickens, it's boring and lack-luster."

The tension in his body had lessoned as she rambled on. And it was rambling. When was the last time she willingly brought up the TTC (Tequila-T-Rex-Chicken) ordeal? It had inspired a song, one that she never recorded, but sang on the odd occasion when the mood struck her. She was all too willing to make mistakes with her life, to live it to a designated edge, but she knew her limits with everything. It came with her knowing who she was.

Didn't stop the press and social media from making mountains outs of mole hills. She never touched drugs. Sure she drank too much on occasion, but it wasn't a regular part of her life. Fuck, half the time she was too busy with the music or playing around on her computer, so when she chose to go out. She wanted an adventure.  
She wanted to take months off and just travel. See the world and not just hotel rooms and music venues.

"Did you keep the chickens?" The man's rough voice cut through her thoughts and she smiled at the one part of the story she loved. He had turned toward her, allowing her full visual access to his face.

Felicity liked his face. It was a good face. A really damn good face.

"Bubbles, Blossom and Buttercup." He cocked his head to the side at her words and she mirrored him, enjoying the amusement that flicked in his otherwise passive face, "They're family now. Who knows what horrors I had to go through to rescue them!"

"Or some poor farmer is missing three chickens." The teasing tone in his voice and slight smile of his eyes, took her by surprise for a full second before she regained her speaking abilities. Dear her, she wanted him to smile properly, she wanted to be the cause of the smile.

"There is that distinct possibility. Still, I don't know how many farmers there are New England. I say New England because although I started in Boston and ended up in Hartford, Connecticut. Who knows how many states I bounded around too that night. Oh graduation." He finally turned to her, his wide shoulders filling the space as he took the time to look her over like he was reading the summary of a book. She wasn't certain what he was trying to pin point exactly. Lifting her whiskey to her lips she took a sip, eyeing him over her glass. She could totally wait him out.

Pause.

Okay, fuck it.  
He was taking too much time.

"What are you trying to figure out? I see your brain is trying to work something out. Give it to me handsome."

Not the wording she should have gone with.  
Not the wording at all.

She fought to keep the blush from her cheeks as she gave him a playful grin, taking a step closer to him. Owning her rambles and word vomit. It was a part of her a large part, that made her a PR nightmare at times.

"Your age. My mother always said it was rude to as outright. But you don't look old enough to be out of college. Fuck, I didn't think you were old enough be at the bar when you came in."

When you came in.  
When you came in.  
He noticed her when she came in. She was focused on the floors. She was focus on her need to get away for a night. If she'd been focused on anything else, would she had notice him at the bar.  
Yes.  
Yes she totally would have. Sir Stoic was not a member of the population that one would over look.

"Twenty-three. Don't let all of this fool you," Gesturing to all of herself with hand motions, she hoped it wasn't too spastic, "I'm the proud owner of degrees in computer science and mathematics."

"The let math majors have pink hair?" There was the barest hint of a teasing smile on his lips. Emotion! So, the man wasn't a robot. She would totally break him.

"I think it might have been why I graduated early."

"So, why the fuck are you in a place like this College?" He lifted his beer to his lips, and eyebrow quirking up slightly, as his lace was voiced with genuine interest.

"Wanted whiskey and an adventure. Dive bars are the best place to begin. And what about you? If you wanted to drink alone, most do that at home." They were also great when you were the lead singer of an up and coming rock band and you did not want to be said lead singer of a rock band for a night.

"Didn't want to be home."

There's a story there.

"There's a story there." She said, leaning in to him, her head at an angle as her eyes moved across his face. He gave nothing away.

"Not one you'll hear."

"Just suck all the fun away why don't you. Fun sucker. I'd call you grandpa, but my pa-pa is a riot and I don't want to insult him."

"If you wanted my age you could have just asked." He wanted her to have more details about him. Felicity was going to take that as a step to winning him over.

"So…how old we talking?"

"Twenty-nine."

Not an unexpected number, but he seemed so much older than that. It pulled at her heart and more than anything, she wanted to infuse him with some light and fun. And she was going to. Even if it would require them doing tequila shots and them waking up to her manager calling her to ream her out for missing the call time to leave.

"Oh, hun. You need fun. No twenty-nine year old who looks like you should be so grumpy." Casting her gaze around the bar, she tracked her eyes back to the billiard's tables in the back. Two burly men, who were half covered in tattoos were racking up a new game, and smiled.  
Oh this was going to be all different types of fun.

Felicity reached out and grabbed his large hand, she had a moment of thinking what a nice hand it was and how she'd enjoy it on other parts of her body before giving it a mighty tug. He barely even budged. Instead he gave her, what she assuming, was his version of a quizzical look.

"You any good at pool?"

"Decent enough. Why?"

"Just follow my lead. I can work with decent enough." She swiveled on the balls of her boots, her hand behind her still clutching his. She wanted him to follow her. To let lose. To enjoy life. No one should be so damned detached. And most of all she wanted a night of fun, and she wanted that night of fun to be with him.  
Felicity knew he was her story tonight. He was the next song - Fuck, the man was her next album. What happened tonight was going to be one of those that shapes and defines you kinda night. He just needed to trust her.

It wasn't something she typically recommended.  
She over thought but acted impulsively. It was a contradiction that molded every fiber of who she was.  
Yes, she was going to get them in trouble.  
He could trust her it would be the good kind of trouble.  
Well maybe not.

Taking a step forward, she was pleased when she felt him shift to move with her. And move she did, with an ever growing smile, she made it to the two large bikers before stopping at the table. Her teeth pressing into her bottom lip while she turned her wide-eyes on them. She felt Sir Stoic press into her back, the heat of his body causing her sense to go on hyper drive, his hand still loosely holding her own.

Even without looking at him she could feel the tension in his body, along with the sheer size and strength of his body.  
That would, most likely, come in handy, at some point in the evening.

"Do you mind if we join you?" She knew how to play this game. After all she grew up on the outskirts of Vegas. Cards and billiards had covered her college tuition that hadn't been taken care of by scholarships, mathematics had its uses that was for certain.

"Little girl." The one wearing a bandana around his forehead spoke, the other one with a decent size beer gut just eyed them.

My all the men she was meeting tonight were such talkers. Plus the way bandana man was eyeing her, even with the hunk of a man at her back, made her think that a shower needed to be in her immediate future.

"Meghan," she reached out her free hand to the rougher looking of the two (read: bandana man, she could out run beer-gut, and she hated running), "And this is Eugene." She gave her head a tilt to the man at her back.  
He was so not a Eugene. But Eugene was a fitting name for what she had planned.  
Real names were such a bother.  
Though she really should get his.

"We don't play for fun lil' girl." Beer gut jumped into the conversation at hand. Joy.

"Then what do you play for?" Wide eyed and innocent as always, Felicity asked.

"Meghan," the growl sounded behind her and she tightened her hand on his. They were rough hands, and mammoth compared to her own. She vaguely wondered what it was he did exactly.  
This was not the time. She was playing her role as wide-eyed girl number one, and if she said so herself she was knocking it out of the park.

"Five-hundred bucks."

"Are you insane?" She all but howled as 'Eugene' gruffly said, "Let's go."

"That's right, figure you to be a pussy, seeing as you're letting one lead you around." Every damn time. It was like she'd written these poor men a script. Time to turn up her performance.

"Baby! You can't let him talk to you like that. Show them how good you are. I can help! You've been teaching me."

"We're leaving."

"We'll make it seven-fifty if we play pairs." They were putty in her hands.

"Eugene, baby, we've got this. Come on! He's mean, and that's not okay! He called you a pussy!"

Oh heaven help her, she was about to lose it. The look on 'Eugene's' face, mixed with the smug expressions on the two bikers' faces, and whatever expression she was pulling off. Felicity wanted to laugh.

"Fuck it. Let's lose seven hundred and fifty dollars because you want to have a fucking adventure." Look at him being Mr. Chatty.

As he spoke he unbuttoned and shrugged off the long sleeved plaid shirt he had been wearing to reveal a snug fitting grey Henley, and tossed it at her, "We're playing. You're putting that on." It was a command.

"Would you like me to salute you when you give a command?" He shot her a glare. So she gave him a salute which earned her a piercing glare.  
She really was starting to like him.

Figure now was not the time to let her mouth get away from her. He looked disgruntled and still closed off. She watched his determined features as he moved to the wall to grab them both cues as she slid the warm material of his shirt around her. It was still warm from his body heat. The rich woodsy smell was light but wrapped itself around her as she made a sow of rolling up the sleeves, the bracelets at her wrists jingling lightly as she did so. The length of it causing the hem too reach her mid-thigh and she was wondering if she'd have to give it back, she liked it.  
Leaving it unbuttoned she looked up at him grinning. His eyes were on her, lips were pressed together in a thin line, and there was a tick going on at his jaw. And she swore he muttered, "even worse," before he handed her a cue.

Which she promptly dropped, and hurried to pick up, allowing a flustered look to cross over her face.  
Then the game began.

Beer-gut had just sunk his third ball, and was smirking over at Felicity. She artfully kept up her big-eyed expression with a light pout. 'Eugene' was growing more and more fidgety as the game went on. She wasn't going to let them lose.

Yes, on her first time up she didn't hit anything, but she got close enough to look like there was a hope for her to do so, and he'd been carrying them. Now however, was her second turn, and this is when everything was going to take a turn for them.

Brushing passed her man.  
Not 'her man' her man, but her man, aka Eugene, aka Sir Stoic.  
He hadn't been too chatty since the game began.

All pool was, math and a hint of science. It was geometry and physics working hand in hand. In other words, she really did have this, and was about to make two very large bikers relatively angry. She sunk each of her balls in turn, feeling the tension rack up in the room as she did so, plus there were anger vibes being shot her way that were very difficult to miss.

Making her last shot, she straightened, placing the butt of her cue stick to the ground and leaning into it as she smiled brightly at the three men staring at her. The two bikers across the table, while her guy was standing relatively close. At some point during her round he'd put on a nice leather jacket. She approved.

"You fucking cunt."

There was a pregnant pause. It was time to move.

"My manager said I couldn't be the cause of another bar brawl." Felicity spoke to 'Eugene,' and then everyone was in motion. 'Eugene' came at her, bring his shoulder down to meet with her midsection, and then she was up in the air. His arm curled around the back of her bare thighs, moving them quickly farther into the bar.

"I think the exit is the other way." Was her helpful response to being in this situation; though she'd have to say, this position gave her a good view of his ass. With her hands at his waist she pushed herself up slightly, only to see the two bikers gaining ground, and other patrons had taken notice to all the commotion.

One person had their phone pointed in her direction.  
Well shit.

They rounded a corner and hauled ass through a narrow door, where he all but through her off as he pushed the door closed and locked then barricaded it with his body.  
"Out the window." He jerked his chin toward the window over the toilet, as a sickening thud came from the door. The frame creaked and his body jerked slight jerk.

Giving him another salute, which she didn't wait to see his reaction towards, Felicity stepped up on the seat and jerked the widow open. Getting her legs out first she tried to slowly easy herself down. She had her body halfway out when she felt his large hands on her giving her an extra boost and causing her to land roughly on the damp grass. A light rain had begun to mist. Quickly she got out of the way so that he could come out to join her.

He managed to get out of the window with much more grace than she had. It was impressive to see a man that large move with agile grace. She didn't have time to appreciate it though, seeing as the moment his feet landed, he grabbed her hand and pulled her to the parking lot, towards a sleek motorcycle.

It was a nice bike. The only time she'd been on a bike was for a photo-shoot, and it had been stationary.

The door of the doors of the bar came flying open and people were surging out. A helmet was thrust at her as 'Eugene' straddled the bike and turned it over.

"Get the fuck on."

She didn't hesitate. Slamming down the helmet, she all but threw herself on the back of his bike, wrapping her arms around his hard waist and pressing her inner thighs along his outer ones. She was on a motorcycle with a man whose name she didn't even know. There was a nervous energy that consumed her, and for a moment she thought she might have bit off more than she could chew.

The second she got semi-settled they shot off. Felicity clung to him like her life depended on it, and at the speed they were accelerating at, she figured that was a wise decision on her part.  
Pressed close into him. Feeling the misting rain settling on her skin, his plaid shirt flying behind her, she felt like she was flying.

She'd been drowning in her world. So she had all but ran away. It had been a super adult thing for her to do.

No, it was immature. But she didn't know what else to do. Taking didn't help. Everyone put her in a cage. They all wanted something from her. They all wanted her a certain way. All she wanted to be was herself. She wanted to write music and mess with computers. It was selfish of her. She had so much already. She had a life people only dreamed about and she was unhappy with where it was leading her.

They sped through the city. Everything seems both dark and bright all at once. Her heart was pounding in her throat and she felt alive. They began to slow as he pulled the bike into an alleyway of what looked like a Chinese restaurant. Though loud music was pounding from the building.  
Now was as good a time as any for introductions.

"I'm Felicity by the way."

"Oliver. Now want to explain what you meant by your manager?"

Uh oh.

* * *

Notes:

So, I'm back, with a brand new story. I had a bunch of one-shots planned out to write, and then those pictures of Emily came out with the pink hair, and this whole rock star gig started up in my head but nothing came out of it till I heard Elle King's 'America's Sweetheart' and I became head over heels inspired.  
This of course it setting everything up. Each chapter plans to be about an hour of the night/morning.  
I mean how much can happen in one night?  
How many lives can change?

Hope you all are ready to enjoy the ride! And I will be posting a playlist when this is all said and done!  
Oh the excitement!


	2. 1:13 am

**1:13 a.m.**

Manager.  
The word rang in Oliver's head, it pounded through his thoughts.

He was half certain that the woman who was still clinging to his back was lost. Not lost in the she got loose from the mental asylum, but lost as in she was desperately trying to find herself while putting up a front that she wanted other's to perceive. Felicity wanted to come across as someone wild and free, a stunning woman without a care in the world, someone who dived head first into everything.  
She was lost.  
Maybe it took him being lost himself to see that in her, and he wanted to protect her. To make sure, that at least while she was trying to lose herself for a night, that there would be someone to look out for her.

She was going to be something else when she figured out exactly who she was. But for now she was a lost girl who pulled a broken man into her orbit, and she was going to damn well explain herself.

Pushing her hands away from where they still clung to him like they were about to go on another ride through the city. Oliver swung off his bike with a natural grace, folding his arms over his chest as he watched her awkwardly remove herself from where she sat. He held back a smile, her jerky movements and shaky legs were such a contrast to the cool women who downed whiskey and played pool.  
Yeah, this girl was lost.

Not that he had room to talk.  
He'd gone into that dive to try to drown himself. It was a stupid thought. He was grateful now that he was only half a drink in when Felicity joined him at the bar. Oliver needed a night off from his life, from the shit storm that he walked into after leaving the service; between the cluster-fuck that was his personal life to the PTSD he just could not shake, he desperately wanted to find an easy way out. But that wasn't him anymore.  
Thank Fuck.

Felicity wobbled around, seeming to try to get a sense of footing once again. All the jewelry she wore catching the dim light of the alley way, drawing in his focus. She was pretty; young and, if what she said about college was true, intelligent. He wouldn't let her affect him, not until he got a few more answers so that he could assess whatever situation they were actually in.

Settling his face into the unreadable mask that he'd spent years perfecting, Oliver let his eyes trail her movements. Watching as she stood several feet from him, still wearing the helmet, as she made faces and hand gestures like she was going to speak.  
Only no words came out.  
It was kind of cute.

She was on edge. He could almost hear her mind she was thinking so loudly. Her body was coiled with tension, and her right hand kept making a slight movement to the small purse that was slung across her body. There was something in there that she wanted. Her phone? Possibly pepper spray? He didn't think she'd attack him. She didn't do so much when he'd carried her over his shoulder.

Fuck.  
The feeling of her weight on him, even in that extremely none sexual way, caused him to stir. The feeling of her smooth thighs against his palm, her hands on his hips. It was torture, though not nearly as much as watching her bed over the pool table to take a shot. He had seven years on her, shouldn't pop wood just because she knew how to handle a stick and balls.  
Fuck him. His mind did not need to go there. She didn't want him in that regard.  
No. Felicity wanted an adventure in Neverland.

His mouth pulled into a grim line. It had been too long if that was getting to him. He knew better. She was lost and he was broken, he didn't need to be attracted to her.

He'd help her for the night. Maybe get her less lost. Maybe helping her would ease his own pain.  
The girl needed to start speaking first.

Felicity still wore the helmet, unable to talk herself into taking it off, just in case her face and the asphalt decided to get better acquainted; the possibility was still high, seeing as her legs were on the shaky side of stable at the moment. She wanted to go through her phone and figure out just how much shit she was in, she was thinking it wouldn't be too high - seeing as there hadn't been an actual fight – but she was mighty thankful that she'd turned the damn thing on silent. As much as she needed her cell, being a slave to technology and all, she wasn't in the mood to deal with it in any way, shape, or form.

Manager.  
Manager.

Was there a way to get out of this without bold-face lying to the stoic man who'd saved her ass from the fryer.  
Not really.

Looking at Oliver's tightly pressed lips, Felicity fought back a sigh. Might as well tell the man the truth, she owned him that. Plus, she had a feeling that the hashtag FSCyberWatch would be trending in the hour for the city, this wasn't exactly her first rodeo. Fans did like to keep tabs on her, and the video of Oliver running with her through the bar was bound to become viral, she'd felt how high her shorts had ridden up and was five different types of grateful that she had Oliver's flannel tied around her waist. Still, when he'd carried her out of there, his hand had found its way under, and pressed against her thighs.

No! Now was not the time to start fantasying.  
Now was about the time that if it was trending that she was wandering about the city that it would all just be a giant game of hide and seek, or cats and mouse. With the odds not in their favor. Not at all.  
It would be the polite thing to do - giving him some sort of warning. He was now her partner in crime, or side kick? Robin to her Batman, but he was more Batman than she'd ever be. Maybe Red Arrow to her Green Arrow.  
Fuck she was letting her mind rant.

"Are you a fan of music?" Frack. Apparently she was channeling a late night infomercial host, Oliver's eyes narrowed and she pulled in her bottom lip. Letting out a sigh, she gave herself a mental shake, and attempted a small smile. This wasn't the time to put on a show. This also wasn't the time to try and get a smile, no matter how badly she wanted a smile.

"Okay – I may or may not be the lead singer of an alternative band who is on the major up and up. I also may or may not be trending on twitter for the city; honestly I don't know, I have this nagging feeling that won't go away, but if I check my phone then the shit storm will be real – and I'm so not ready for the shit storm to be real, just going to bury my head in the sand for a couple more hours. I also, also, might need your help in a giant game of hide and seek where the odds will be stacked against us. Think 'Hunger Games' only people aren't out to kill us; in theory."

Silence.  
He just stared at her.  
She fiddled with the helmet she wore, before pulling it off and not fully meeting his gaze as she took a step forward with it out stretched in her hands as though it was an offering.

"You're telling me that you are a math whiz, who just also happens to be a rock star?" There was a bite to his tone that made her cringe. She knew how it sounded, it was ridiculous, but she had wanted a different response from him.  
She had kinda hoped he'd come to her rescue of sorts.  
Which was stupid. She needed to rescue herself, never depend on anyone else. It was her against the world. Against everyone telling her who she needed to be, how she needed to be perceived.  
Felicity straightened her spine.

"I can tell you one thing, I'm not a fan of your tone." She also wasn't a fan of the way his face contorted into anger, it made his handsome features ugly. That's a lie, it made him look dangerous and he thought she was just a little girl who was a head case.

He gave a bark of laughter that held no amusement, it caused ice to permeate through her. The way he so easily dismissed the idea that anything she was saying was true, hurt more than she'd admit. The fact that he seemed truly angry at her, cut deeper that she'd expected. It was all stupid.  
Felicity didn't know him and he didn't know her. She was not about to let all that was Sir Stoic Oliver get her down.

This was the night she had taken for herself. She'd thought he'd be a good song, that he would enjoy loosening up a bit. So, she'd been wrong. Wasn't the first time, and it wouldn't be the last.

Felicity all but thrust the helmet into his chest, her face set to bitch mode, she didn't need this.  
She was Felicity fucking Smoak.  
She had the world in her hand.  
What one guy thought of her was not going to ruin her night.

Her lone credit card had been left at the dive bar, which was a headache she'd deal with in the morning, but she did still have her purse and ID. Felicity would make it work. Running a hand through her disastrous hair, which was knotted, windblown, and doing whatever the hell it wanted for the first time in a year.  
Fuck, had she not been her for a year?  
Had it really been that short of time? Had it really been that long?  
She was five seconds away from having a panic attack over her hair. Felicity needed to get away. She needed to run.

"Thanks for the ride. Have a nice night Oliver." And with that her body instinctively move toward the feel and sound of the heavy bass; this night could be salvaged. She wasn't going to dwell on why it had cut her so deeply that he didn't believe her. He had no right to. She'd dragged him into playing pool and then he'd been the one to save them. Now, she was on radar, and Felicity really didn't know how much longer she had. She was going to need to ditch the clothes, and by ditch she meant putting them in a bag to carry around so that Sherry from wardrobe wouldn't kill her.

To get new clothes she needed money. She could just use her phone to pay for everything, as long as she ended up in shops that provided that option. Felicity had this. She could do this. She was going to have the most epic night of her life.

"Felicity wait." Oliver's hand wrapped around her bicep causing her to come to a dead stop.

"Look, you don't owe me anything." Fixing a glamorous smile on her face, she turned her torso towards him. With an upbeat tone she continued on, "I'm sorry for snapping. This is my one night away from everything in a year, so I'm going to take advantage of it. You need to let me go Oliver. I am sorry for ruining your night."  
She should have her manager look into acting gigs, like spots on tv shows.

"Don't do that." His tone was hard and biting as he ran a hand through his closely cropped hair, the muscle in his jaw jumped.

Felicity fixed a wide eyed innocent expression that she'd mastered over the years.  
No one took a wide-eyed blonde as a serious threat, and she was hoping the same could be said about her now with pink hair, "Do what?"

"Mask everything."

The fuck did he just say?

"Yeah well, you didn't seem to like it when my mask slipped a bit now did you?" He was infuriating! They were standing at a cross roads wanting to go in opposite directions but neither of them seemed to be moving.  
She really needed to get out of her performance outfit or wardrobe would skin her alive. Iris was a scary when pissed. Felicity really didn't want her pissed at her.

"Fuck. Look, we're near the pier. It should still be going strong, the places along there don't close till three. There are street performers. It's nice." Oliver tried a soothing tone, she could almost see the vast amount of effort he put into the words.

Giving her head a jerk she said in an equally soothing tone, "I was going to go where the heavy bass was coming from."

"That would be a strip joint."

"Do you think they have all you can eat wings for $5?"

They did have all you can eat wings for $5, plus excellent music, and gorgeous girls. The only major downside was the sticky floors, but Felicity had never been to a strip club before and she was loving it.  
It was dark, with a deep base that made your heart beat in time with the music.  
She could see the appeal.  
Also, she decided she needed her own strip pole, because the abs on the dancers were insane. Yes, dancers. They may take off their clothes for money, but those ladies had killer moves the Felicity could only dream about.

"I'm going to be a stripper."

"Thought you were a rock star."

The man did not believe her.  
She could just have him Google her, and that would be that, but no. No, that's not where her brain went. Her brain was on let's make rash decisions mode.  
Her brain was on stupid and reckless and 'if you're already in trouble, might as well make it the most epic shit storm that you can' mode.

It was the only way to explain what she did next.  
It was legit the only way she could rationalize her actions in her mind.  
Because she found her way on stage. And by found her way on stage she meant told Oliver she was going to use the rest room and made instead made a beeline straight for the DJ who had a rather impressive security guard standing in between him and the stage.

"I'm Felicity Smoak, you may know me from the band Cyber Hack. If you need proof I have ID, but I need to really prove a point to the grumpy guy I'm with who's sitting in the booth by the entrance. Is there any way I can maybe sing a quick song? You'd be doing me a huge huge favor." She watched as his face quickly fell into the 'O' face, and she wasn't certain if it was because she had talked too fast or if it was because he was about to flip out because he actually knew who she was.

Turned out he knew who she was – and was a fan and quickly got the manager's approval for her to get on stage.  
The manager – Elwin - was super sweet, a bit on the large and scary side, but really polite when he asked for a picture and autograph. It was a nice heartwarming moment to have in a strip club.

The lights dimmed, the music faded, Felicity made her way on stage, then she sang.  
It was loud and messy and raw. She sang to the patrons and danced around with the dancers who quickly joined her on stage. Felicity lost herself. It was all a blur of sound and lights, then it was silence and she came back to herself. To what she just done.  
Fuck she'd felt free.

"Thank you, now back to the normally programmed show." There would be videos galore, and she no longer cared, because she was high off the freedom. Turing to the blonde on her right she gave her best smile, "Do you think there is a spare set of clothes I could borrow? I came straight from my show and wardrobe will kill me if I fuck up this outfit."

The girl was stunning, and Felicity had half a mid to ask her if she was real; this all was feeling like a dream or like she was out of her body and floating.

"Holy shit! You're from Cyber Hack." Oh, a fan! She might get a spare set of clothes after all!

"I am. Clothes? We don't want wardrobe to murder me."

And that was the story of how she made seven new friends including the DJ and Elwin. The girls had found a red gauze skirt and a black crop top that fit her well enough to wear out, plus had given her a bag to put her stage clothing in. It was all going great till she got word that Oliver was about ready to fight his way through security to get to her.

She'd momentarily forgotten about the whole reason for her impromptu performance.  
Oops.

Okay, that was a lie.  
She wasn't ready to face him because it was make or break if he now believed her. He could have just left, because she was clearly more trouble than she was worth, and for some reason the thought of him coming to that conclusion caused her stomach to tighten.

But he hadn't left her. He'd stayed.

"Oliver?"

His muscles where tense and everything about him read that he was on high alert, he was laser focused on her and she fought not to melt under his gaze. The man was something else. A force of nature.

"We need to get you out of here. Now." He was signaling Elwin over, who was looking less like a teddy bear now and more grizzly.

"What do you mean now?"

"I mean, your fucking Hunger Games shit just got real." Oh dear. Well that could only mean one thing; he believed her now.

"Ah, they found me. Took less time than I thought."

"Felicity," He rumbled her name causing heat to shot through her, "We get moving, or I'm throwing you over my shoulder."

"You know that's not a threat, right?" Because she needed to make sure that if he was willing to pick her up, she'd be game for that any day of the week. It was like telling a kid if you don't eat your vegetables, I'm going to give you candy. Oliver was the candy.

Elwin had joined them in the darkened corner outside of the changing room just in time to hear Oliver's deep throatily growl of partial annoyance. Felicity knew it was partial because she didn't miss how his eyes darkened or the fact that his breathing became deeper, the physical attraction seemed to go both ways. That was good to know.

"You can go out the back way, I'll take you."

Oliver gave a jerk of his head in a silent command while taking Felicity's hand and pulling her along to follow him. She had to marvel where her night was leading her.  
This was unexpected and kinda exciting.

"Do you want me to apologize?" She asked in a soft voice. As much as she liked him riled up and on edge, because at least it was some sort of emotion, part of her wanted him to enjoying this as much as she was.

"For what?" Was his gruff reply as they waited in the shadows for Elwin, who had gone ahead to check if the coast was clear.

Hell, there was a ton of ways to answer that question, but she said the first thing that came to mind, "For being me?"

Pulling in her lips she looked up at him as he turned to give her his full attention as his eyes searched her face, she made to give her stage smile, but remembered what he said about her wearing a mask.

"Fuck. You mean that."

She gave a half-hearted shrug, "I'm realizing I haven't been me for a while now, and I'm just starting to find my way back. If you want me to apologize for getting you mixed up in all of this, I understand."

He gave her a slight smile that got her heart racing. It was sad and sweet.  
Felicity wanted to know what made him tick, what haunted his eyes, and more than anything she wanted to make him really smile.  
Stupid.

"Felicity. You're stuck with me for now."

That sounded really nice coming from him.

"Didn't peg you for the knight in shining armor type."

"Yeah, well, I neither did I." Oliver gave her hand a light squeeze before leading her out the door way into the back alley where his bike was parked. He took the bag with her stage outfit and put it in the locked compartment he had on the back of the bike before handing her the helmet.

He wasn't big on words. Which was fine, Felicity knew she could speak enough for two people, and his movements and actions spoke loud. He was difficult to read but Felicity was starting to understand him.  
Oliver was just as lost as she was; maybe even a tad broken. But he was protective and good. Two things which were hard to fake, especially in a situation like this.

He held his hand out to her for support as she swung on to his bike, with a tad more grace, and waited a moment for her to get situated. This was the second time she was escaping on the back of his bike, and the night had really just begun.

"Where to College?"

She was still College to him.  
Just the girl who drank whisky in a dive-bar and rattle on about her chickens.

Oh, Felicity was so going to keep this man. Hopefully for more than a night.

* * *

Notes:

Sooooo...bit heavier, kinda a rush. Getting to know this verse's Felicity.

She's lost and I really wanted to get that across that she's realizing she actually doesn't know who she is.

Oliver thinks he's broken, and we'll dive more into that later on.

Um, if you haven't been following my lovely life story...me and my laptop are at war. It doesn't believe that my space bar should work, and I think it's pretty key to writing. But, I am making a point to write past that.

Anywho, I hope you enjoyed this chapter.

If you want something lighter with a metric shit ton of banter, allow me to pimp out my Swooner series...it's different but fun!

Till next time!


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